


Nightmare's Return

by Kittisnake



Series: Mara's Thief [5]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 20:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11951883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittisnake/pseuds/Kittisnake
Summary: Everyone is on edge after vampires attack Riften. Erandur returns to Dawnstar to protect his flock while Garion gets the jump on the Dawnguard by investigating the main vampire lair for ancient artifacts. But along with the treasures, there are dangers hidden in dark caves that even an experienced thief can't escape.





	1. When Vampires Attack

Meeko was growling at something in the kitchen. Erandur tried to ignore him until he heard what was upsetting the dog: shouting, metal hitting metal, heavy boots running across stone and wood. There was a muffled explosion followed by a whiff of something horrendous. Now wide awake, the priest began to get out of bed until his partner pulled him back down.

“Don't,” Garion whispered hoarsely. He was tense, ready to pounce on anything that might break through the door. Erandur slid back under the covers. Downstairs they heard Iona come out of her room. The stairs creaked as she came up, but before she could reach the ground floor someone banged on the city-side door, making Meeko bark. Over the dog they heard Maramal's voice. “Erandur! Erandur! Wake up! I need your help out here. The guards! They need healing!”

Erandur gasped. “Garion, let go. I have to help him.” He yanked his wrist out of the Altmer's hand, climbed out of bed, and pulled on a blue robe that was hanging from the bed post. Before he could leave the room, however, Iona was at the door, dagger in hand. She began to open the door but Maramal's frantic knocking pushed it open all the way, almost knocking the Nord woman into the wall. 

“Mara's Tears! I'm sorry, Iona,” the Redguard priest said. “Erandur? Are you in there?”

“Here I am,” the Dunmer said, coming into the front room. “What's going on?”

“Vampires! They broke in through the southeast gate and attacked the sentries. Three of them were bitten. I need your help getting the infection out of their blood!”

Erandur immediately ran out of the house, not even pausing to put on his shoes. Vampire bites were very dangerous. Even a drop of saliva could infect the victim with _sanguinaire vampiris_ unless it was treated immediately with Divine blessings. The two priests raced across the central marketplace towards Mistveil Keep. The streets were silent and empty. Everyone, even the thieves, was hiding indoors. A wise decision considering the bloody mess at the southeast gate.

The three injured sentries had been pulled over to the lawn between the orphanage and the outer wall. Alessandra, the priestess of Arkay, was stitching up a cut on one guard's leg. Dinya and Briehl were casting healing spells over another guard who looked as if had been clawed by some kind of animal. Maramal and Erandur hurried to the third man. Purplish-black blood flowed from a long, deep gash on his left arm and a bite mark on his right leg. The two priests began casting spells over the wounds, surrounding the guard with a golden light. The blood lightened back to a normal, healthy red as the infection burned away. Then they cast another spell on the guard that would encourage his body's natural healing abilities.

The sun was just peeking over the mountains by the time the priests had finished their job. Men from the Riften Guard came to carry the sentries back to the barracks. Two new sentries and the Captain of the Guard stayed to guard the gate. The priests remained where they were, too exhausted and magicka-drained to move. Erandur slumped towards the ground. He stared at a bloodstained tuft of grass until it was covered by a potion bottle. When another bottle appeared next to it he looked up to see Garion next to him.

“I made potions for all of you,” he said. “Magicka regeneration and disease resistance.”

“Thank you, dearest,” Erandur said. He picked up one of the bottles and tossed its contents back. It tasted horrible, bitter and sharp. He shuddered.

“Sorry,” Garion said. “All I had to make it was mudcrab claws and charred skeever hide. There's no way to make those taste good. The other one will taste better. It's frost salt, grapes, and lavender.” 

It was better, cool and fruity with a faint floral aftertaste. Erandur felt his strength returning as soon as he finished the potion. Garion reached down and helped him to his feet. He leaned against the Altmer and surveyed the scene. The vampires had done quite a bit of damage before the guards finally cut them down. Blood was splashed all over the cobblestones and on the gate doors. Two corpses were stacked against the wall of the keep. A head was lying in the street staring at its body slumped against the city wall. One of the gate doors was partly open, it's inner edges scorched from the fireball spell that had reduced one of the vampires to a pile of vile-smelling ashes steaming in the morning sun. Even Alessandra, who worked with the dead every day, was trying not to gag. The priests all moved back towards the central market where the rest of the townsfolk, emboldened by the rising sun, had gathered.

Jarl Laila and her entourage emerged from the Keep, flanked by several of her personal guard. When they rounded the corner to the gate, Anuriel covered her mouth with her hands and ran back into the Keep. Saerlund followed her when Unmid kicked the severed head out of the road. Jarl Laila flinched at her housecarl's brutality but kept going until she was at the gate itself. After examining the damage for a few minutes she turned to the Captain of the Guard. “How did this happen?” she asked.

“It appears that they overpowered the outer sentries and opened the gate,” the Captain said. “The inner sentries and several patrolling guards were able to cut the vampires down before they got very far.”

“Where did these monsters come from?” the Jarl demanded. 

“We haven't determined that as yet,” the Captain replied. 

Brynjolf pushed his way out of the crowd to where the two elves were standing. “Give the man a chance, lass. He just got here,” he muttered in Laila's direction.

“Let's not deny her the chance to make a big show in front of the whole city,” Garion said. “If she pesters the guards enough then ordinary folk might think she's doing something.”

Brynjolf chuckled. “True. And this does get her out of the Keep for a little while.”

“Who's in there?” asked Garion. 

“Vex and Cynric.”

Garion nodded. “When you get a chance, can you get my potion bottles out of the crime scene?”

“Why, did you poison somebody?” 

“No. I just don't like having to buy new bottles all the time. Those are nice ones and I want them back. And I can't get them myself because I need to take Erandur home and put him to bed.”

“I'm fine,” Erandur protested.

“No, you're not,” Garion replied. “You'd fall over if you weren't holding on to me. Come on, lover.” He guided Erandur through the crowd towards Honeyside. Once they were home Iona threw the priest's bloodstained robe onto the back porch while Erandur washed off the blood. When he was clean and dry, Garion picked him up and put him in the bed.

“You don't need to tuck me in,” Erandur said as Garion arranged the blankets over him. “I'm not Lucia. Speaking of, where is she?”

“In her room with Meeko,” Garion replied. “I told her to stay there until I came to get her. Which I am about to do. We're going to go check on Frost and go for a ride.” He kissed the priest on his forehead. “Iona will be here if you need anything.”

“Come back here,” Erandur murmured. He pulled Garion's head down and kissed him on the lips. “Be careful out there, dearest.”

“I will,” Garion whispered. “Sleep well, my love.”

*~*~*~*

_Blood and bodies everywhere. The vampires had returned and killed half the town in vengeance. Erandur ran through the bloodstained streets until he reached Honeyside. The door was standing wide open. Meeko was lying dead in front of the kitchen fireplace in a pool of furry blood. Iona, still holding her broken sword, was lying at the bottom of the stairs. He stumbled over her body as he hurried to Lucia's room. He stopped short in horror at her door. The little girl was lying in a pool of blood, her pet rabbit a sad scrap of fur next to her. More blood was dripping from the ceiling. He looked up to see Garion with a stake through his heart hanging from a noose._

Erandur woke with a jerk. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the rafters, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. There was nothing he could do to calm his racing thoughts. An ordinary person would tell himself that it was only a dream, but Erandur had spent too much time in Vaermina's service to believe such trite platitudes. Nightmares were never “only” a dream. There was always the very real risk that such dreams were brought on by Daedric machinations. He had participated in enough of them to know how it was done.

“Come to me, Mara, for without you I might forget the ways of light and slip back into the darkness of my youth. Protect me from those who would do me harm and keep my mind pure by the shining light of Your Divine love.” 

He kept whispering the prayer over and over until he was calm enough to get out of bed. His amulet of Mara was lying on the nightstand. Erandur picked it up and fingered the beads as he recited the prayer a few more times. Then he put it down, got dressed, and wrapped the necklace around his wrist so he could hold the pendant in his hand. 

Iona was sitting by the kitchen fire turning a roast on the spit with one hand while she read a book. She looked up when Erandur came in. “You didn't sleep very long. Are you all right?” she asked. 

“No,” he said. “I had terrible dreams. I'm going to the Benevolence for a while.”

She nodded. “I'll let Garion know when he gets back.”

The central marketplace was just as busy as it always was, but the crowds were more subdued than usual. Customers and stall-keepers didn't shout at each other as they bartered, the children didn't shriek or run as they played, even the hammering at the forge seemed quieter than usual. Everyone had a dagger at his belt and no one's right hand strayed far from the hilt. Even though they knew that the vampires wouldn't attack during the day, the city was still on edge. Erandur clenched Mara's image tightly in his hand and hurried to the temple.

An Orc in strange armor was standing at the door of the Benevolence talking to Maramal. The head priest was worriedly playing with the tassels on his cincture as the Orc spoke. They turned when they heard Erandur coming up the steps. Maramal smiled slightly but his eyes remained apprehensive.

“Brother, it's good to see you. I was just about to send for you. Durak, this is Erandur, the priest from Dawnstar I was telling you about.”

“Greetings,” the Orc grumbled. 

“Greetings,” said Erandur.

“Durak is from a group called the Dawnguard,” Maramal said. “They're vampire hunters. One of their members just came back from the Pale with some disturbing news. About the Vigilants.”

“Of Stendarr? What happened?” Erandur asked. The carved edges from the amulet bit into his palm as he squeezed it.

“We should probably talk inside,” Durak said. 

“Yes, yes, of course,” said Maramal. The three men went into the temple. Maramal led them to a small room behind the main altar where the sacred altar items were kept. Once the door was closed, Durak began to speak.

“As Maramal said, I'm a member of the Dawnguard. We're based in an old fort nearby on the Morrowind border. Our mission is to eradicate vampires in Tamriel. People think we're part of the Vigilants of Stendarr, but we're not. We barely speak to each other, in fact. At least until last week we didn't.

“That was when a Vigilant named Tolan came to Fort Dawnguard and insisted on speaking directly to Isran. Isran's our leader, the founder of the Dawnguard Order. He used to be a Vigilant but about fifteen years ago he had a fight Keeper Carcette and left the order. Said the Keeper wasn't taking the vampire threat seriously enough. Tolan came to the fort came to tell Isran he was right. Seems that the Vigilants attacked a group of vampires that were terrorizing the marshes up near Morthal but they didn't finish the job. One of the vampires turned invisible and got away. A week later the vampires came to the Hall of the Vigilant and got revenge. They killed most everyone inside, including the Keeper, and burned the place to the ground. Only a few of the Vigilants managed to escape. Some of them chased the vampires back to a cave in the mountains nearby and never came back. Tolan said he thinks they have a nest up there and that they might be planning an attack on Dawnstar.”

Erandur felt his heart drop into his stomach. Dawnstar was his responsibility. Were vampires already attacking his congregation? “I should be there,” he said. 

“The city shouldn't be left without a priest,” Maramal agreed.

“It would be good to have a priest there just in case,” Durak agreed. “Isran is planning an expedition to the cave but it's going to take a couple of weeks. In the meantime I'm going to the temples in each hold to warn the priests. You're going to be the front line in this battle. If there's an outbreak of vampirism among the people, you would be the first to know.”

“I can send word to the other temples,” said Maramal. “That would save you a lot of travel. The only holds you would have to go to are Morthal and Winterhold. I don't have any contacts there. I guess in Winterhold you'd have to talk to the Restoration mages at the College.”

“You should speak with Falion in Morthal,” Erandur added. “He's a Conjuration mage. His specialty is necromancy, but he told me once that he's made a particular study of vampires.”

“He sounds like someone we should know,” Durak agreed. “I'm still going to go to the temples, though. Warning priests isn't my only job. I also have some potion recipes that Isran's developed that specifically target the sanguinaire vampiris infection. Make sure you keep a good supply on hand. These vampires are getting bolder. There may be more attacks.”

Erandur got up. “And I'm going to prepare to return to Dawnstar. There are several people I need to speak to before I go.”

“Yes, brother,” Maramal said. “I'll be sure to give you a copy of the recipe.”

“Thank you, brother,” Erandur said. He left the room and went to the statue of Mara behind the altar. “Lady Mara, give me strength,” he whispered as he fell to his knees before Her.

*~*~*~*

“I'm glad Maramal took that recipe. Elgrim wouldn't even hear him out. Told him to quit wasting his time and chased him out of the shop with a frying pan. I never saw an Orc move so fast.” Brynjolf chuckled as he poured more wine into his goblet.

Garion took the last piece of sweet roll from the tray. “I ran into Ingun today and she told me that Elgrim didn't even know there was an attack last night. Claimed he didn't hear a thing.”

“He may not have. His shop is tucked away on the lower level,” Erandur replied.

“He's the only one in town who didn't,” Brynjolf said. “Everyone's scared. That Orc walked out of here with six new recruits, including that grouch Grelka. Good riddance to her.” He spat into the fire, narrowly missing Iona who was getting up to collect the dirty dishes.

Iona shot a dirty look in his direction. “I wondered why she was packing up her stall this afternoon,” she said.

“She smiled at me, Papa, and her face didn't crack like you said it would” Lucia added.

The adults laughed. “You're a terrible influence, lad,” Brynjolf said. “Erandur, are you sure you have to leave? We need someone to keep this one in line.”

“Dawnstar needs me,” Erandur replied. “Besides, it's almost time I went back anyway. I've already been here for almost three months.”  
Brynjolf shook his head. “ I don't know why you two just don't get married and settle down. How you can deal with this moving back and forth every few months is beyond me.”

“If I can put up with your mouth, I can put up with anything,” Garion retorted.

“All right, I can take a hint. Consider my business minded. Speaking of business....” He drained his goblet and stood up. “Time I was heading back to the Cistern. Vex grabbed the new patrol schedule from the barracks and we need to find out where Riften's Finest will be before we bump into them. See you down there later, lad.”

Garion looked at Erandur and shook his head. “No, I think I'll take the night off.” 

Brynjolf winked at him. “I'll see you in a couple of days, then. Ladies, good night. Erandur, safe travels.”

“G'night, Mr. Brynjolf,” Lucia said brightly. The others waved as Brynjolf left, then got up to deal with the routine of nightly chores. Due to his impending departure, Erandur had the honor of reading Lucia her bedtime story. An hour later she finally let him leave the room...if he left the lamp burning on her shelf. And let Hopscotch the rabbit sleep on her bed. And let Meeko sleep in her bedroom instead of upstairs. And gave her an extra good-night kiss. And check the string of garlic hanging by her door to make sure it wouldn't fall down. And reassure her three separate times that no vampires would be able to get past him, Papa, or Iona.

Erandur found Iona in the alchemy room putting away some empty bottles. “Lucia's anxious tonight,” he warned her. “You may want to check on her yourself before you go to bed.”

She nodded. “I will. To be honest, I'm a little anxious, too.”

“We all are. But the Guard is on alert now and, Mara willing, the vampires won't break in again.”

“I hope you're right,” she sighed. “Are you going to be all right in Dawnstar? I know it's your home, but it's completely open. No walls, no nothing.”

“Not nothing,” Erandur reassured her. “The Court Mage set up magical defenses on all the roads and along the coastline. Plus there are several veteran soldiers who've set up a citizen's brigade to assist the Hold Guard. We also have an experienced alchemist. And in a week they'll have their priest back. Dawnstar's well-guarded, believe me.”

“I guess so. I'm going to worry until I hear you've arrived safely. We all will.”

He took her hands in his. “I know. Put your trust in Mara. She will protect us.”

Iona managed a small smile. “I'll try.”

“That's all She asks. Good night, Iona.”

“Good night, Erandur.”

*~*~*~*

Garion was in bed reading over the potion recipe Durak had given out. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Erandur coming up the steps. “Took you long enough. I was starting to think Lucia was going to make you sleep in her room tonight.”

“I did too for a moment. Once I finished reassuring her I had to do the same for Iona. Not that I blame them.” He nodded to the paper in Garion's hand. “What do you think of the recipe?”

“Seems sound enough. There are a few odd combinations, though.”

“Like what?” Erandur asked as he undressed.

“Luna moth wing and vampire dust. Those are both healing ingredients, but in combination they also cause invisibility. Maybe that's what the mandrake root's for—to counteract the fading. I don't know.” He put the paper away in his nightstand drawer. “I'll mix up a batch for you while you're packing tomorrow.”

“I appreciate that, love.” Erandur climbed into bed and snuggled into Garion's arms. “Are you going to give Elgrim the recipe as well?”

“No, but I will sell it to him.”

“Bad mer.”

“Only when you're not around.” Garion leaned down and kissed the top of Erandur's head. The Dunmer pulled himself up and kissed him properly on the lips. Meanwhile he slid one of his hands up and down the Altmer's chest, caressing him gently yet insistently.

“You're not tired at all, are you?” Garion asked when Erandur released his lips.

“I am, actually. I didn't sleep well earlier.” For a moment he considered telling him about his nightmare, but decided against it. There had already been too much horror in Riften that day. “Right now I want to celebrate.” He moved his hand further down until he found what he was looking for. Garion gasped and pulled him closer.

“What's the occasion?” the Altmer murmured.

“We're alive,” Erandur whispered. “And I love you.” He rolled over onto his back and looked up into Garion's emerald green eyes.

“I love you, too,” Garion said as he bent down for another kiss. “Now and forever.”


	2. The Heist Job

Brynjolf stared into his tankard, watching the bubbles pop as his ale lost its head. When he heard something small and hard hit the table in front of him he looked up to see Garion dropping into the chair across from him. “There you go, boss,” the elf said. “One enchanted ring.”

“Thanks.” Brynjolf tucked the ring into one of his hidden pockets. “And don't call me boss.”

Garion gave him a mocking grin. “Why? You're still Guildmaster, aren't you?” He leaned back in his chair and waved at the bar. “Vekel! Send a mead over here!”

“Only because you and Karliah refused it,” the Nord grumbled.

“Do you really want a religious fanatic like Karliah running this place?” Garion asked. 

“What's your excuse?” Brynjolf asked.

Before Garion could answer, Vekel plopped a full tankard in front of Garion. “The occasional 'please' would be nice,” he said in a mock-offended tone.

“Yeah, that's what I say every time they send me out after a dragon,” the elf retorted.

“I'll add it to your tab,” Vekel said as he returned to the bar.

Garion turned back to Brynjolf. “And that dragon is my excuse. I can't run this operation if I keep having to chase dragons all over Skyrim. Gods help us if they start spreading across the rest of the continent. I'll never be home again.” He took a swig from his tankard.

“Get any good loot from this one?” Brynjolf asked.

“That ring." Garion pointed to the silver band on the table. "I was following the mark when the dragon caught him right in front of Larga...however you pronounce it. Fifteen Orcs helped me bring that beast down. I took the ring and let them keep everything else as a trophy.”

“Not much of a challenge robbing a dragon's lunch,” said Brynjolf.

“The challenge is getting lunch away from the dragon,” Garion replied.

“You want to chase a safer quarry?”

Garion took another drink. “Like what?”

“Like that son of a bitch Molgrom.”

“I thought he was rotting in a jail cell.”

“He was,” Brynjolf said. “They let him out a couple of weeks ago right before the vampire attack. He was actually out on a job when it happened. I saw him in the crowd when Laila gave her performance, but he never came back to the Cistern to turn in his loot later.”

“Where'd he go?” asked Garion

“Apparently he joined the Dawnguard,” Brynjolf said dryly.

Garion snorted. “What did he take?”

“Three pendants from Madesi's stall. One's gold engraved with a hawk, the other's silver inlaid with ivory, the third one is three rubies in a golden triskele. I really need them back, lad. My buyer's expecting delivery soon.”

Garion stroked his beard. “Standard finder's fee?”

Brynjolf nodded. “Plus a bonus if you can find out what's going on in that fort. Maven's getting nervous. She doesn't like armed strongholds that close to her estate.”

“That's another reason why you're Guildmaster. I don't have the patience or the desire to deal with Madam Full-of-Herself.”

“It's why I drink, lad,” the Nord said, raising his tankard.

Garion lowered his voice. “Speaking of the Black-Briars, did you hear about how Ingun tested the Dawnguard potion? She took one of the prisoners out of jail and infected him with _sanguinaire vampiris_.”

“What? How?”

“She had a vial of tainted blood. Don't ask me where she got it from.”

“I don't want to know.” Brynjolf shuddered. “How in Oblivion did she get the guards to agree to let her do that?”

“She didn't ask. Just came in and did it. Almost caused a panic in the jail. Maven had to pay out a lot of money to keep it quiet.”

“How did you find out?”

“Ingun told me. She knew I was testing the potion so she told me it worked. And how she found out.”

“There's something wrong with that girl.”

“You're telling me,” Garion said. “That's why I try to stay on her good side.”

“Smart lad.”

They lapsed into silence until they had finished their drinks. Garion traced patterns in the water that had condensed off his tankard. “I take it you want me to leave soon for this mission?”

“I'd prefer if you left tonight but since you've been chasing a dragon I can wait until tomorrow morning.”

“You're so kind. As a reward I'll let you have the honor of telling Lucia why I had to break my promise to go fishing with her tomorrow,” Garion said as he got up. “See you in a couple of days, boss.”

Brynjolf waved him off. “Get out of here.”

*~*~*~*

Two days later Brynjolf was sitting at the same table when someone reached over his shoulder and dropped a small pouch in front of him. Three pendants were inside.

“Thanks, lad,” he said. “Molgrom give you any trouble?”

“No,” said Garion. He pulled a chair from one of the other tables and sat next to him. “He didn't even notice me. He was too busy trying not to break his nose with a crossbow.”

“With a _what_?”

“New type of bow the Dawnguard's developed. Supposed to be more effective against vampires than a regular bow, but it has one hell of a recoil. I snatched one up while I was there. Niruin's playing with it now.”

“What about Maven's concerns?”

“You can tell Milady not to worry about anyone spying on her lands. Unless she's a vampire, they don't care about her. I know that will be a terrible blow to her ego, but it's the truth.”

Brynjolf let that go. “Find anything worth stealing up there? Besides the crossbow, that is.”

“No, but I got a lead on something that might be worthwhile,” Garion said, his eyes shining with excitement. “I overheard their leader saying that the vampires that burned down the Hall of the Vigilant have been hiding out in a nearby cave ever since. A couple of the Vigilants that escaped the fire have gone into that cave and they just came back with some amazing staffs and soul gems and enchanter tiles, all of them incredibly old and incredibly valuable. I didn't get any of them because Isran, the Dawnguard leader, keeps them in one of those overly complicated Dwemer puzzle chests. But! Isran said that there's more like that where they came from.”

“And you want to go up there and clear out the cave, is that it?” Brynjolf asked. “Are you sure this isn't an excuse for you to go to Dawnstar and visit your priest?”

“Not entirely,” Garion admitted. “I am going to see Erandur while I'm up there, but I'm also going to come back with a bag of loot.”

“That's all on you, lad. I think you're chasing rainbows myself.”

“You wouldn't think that if you had seen what was in that chest.”

Brynjolf shrugged. “So you're running off again?”

“In a couple of days. I need to go by Honorhall tomorrow and enroll Lucia in Constance's school. I've been trying to educate her myself, but it's hard to keep a consistent schedule what with my having to chase dragons and gold at a moment's notice. This way she'll at least learn how to read.”

“This is why I don't have children. Too much responsibility.”

“You're young yet,” Garion said airily.

“I'm thirty-one.”

“And I'm seventy-seven. When you're my age you'll realize the importance of family.”

“When I'm you're age I'll be dead,” Brynjolf retorted.

“No you won't,” Garion replied. “You won't be in the Evergloam five minutes before Nocturnal kicks you out for being too annoying.”

“And you won't make it two minutes,” said Brynjolf. “Go chase your rainbows, Garion. Just remember, if you find a pot of gold at the end, I want a cut.”

Garion smiled. “I'll see that you get it.”


	3. Broken Promises

_I really need to move my temple closer to the city_ , Erandur thought as he trudged up the road to Nightcaller Temple. _There's no real reason to keep it up here on the mountaintop, especially now. It's too remote, the road is too dangerous, and the the tower itself is too ominous._

The wind began to pick up as he reached the top of the mountain, one of those cold, biting winds that came straight off the polar ice caps. It howled mournfully as it whipped around the tower. The scent of snow was in the air. Erandur shivered and pulled his cloak tighter around himself and hurried past the ruined watchtower to the main building. He fumbled with the lock for a moment—his hands were already suffering from the cold—and soon he was in the antechamber. The fire in the fireplace was only glowing coals, but the room was still warm and the goat he had left stewing smelled wonderful. His stomach rumbling, he went to his cupboard for a bowl. Then he heard the outer door open and close behind him. He was getting ready to call up a fireball when he heard a familiar voice.

“Hello, lover.” 

Erandur spun around. “Garion! When did you get here?”

“Just before you did. I was settling Frost in the ruins when you came by. You must not have heard me calling to you over the wind.” He hung up his cloak and crossed the room to hug his Dunmer. 

Even though the Altmer's leather jacket was still cold, Erandur melted into the embrace. It had only been a month since he left Riften but it felt like much longer. They held each other for a few minutes until Garion's stomach growled loudly. 

“Sorry,” Garion murmured.

“Understandable,” Erandur said. “Let's have dinner and then you can tell me why you're here.”

As they ate, Garion told Erandur about what he had seen in Fort Dawnguard. The priest didn't say anything but his eyes grew troubled when Garion mentioned how the escaping Vigilants had discovered the cave. He didn't like the idea of his lover exploring a cave full of vampires. The carnage that he had seen in Riften was still fresh in his mind. Even though he knew Garion was one of the stealthiest thieves in Skyrim, he also knew that vampires had preternaturally keen senses. The ability to disappear into shadows wouldn't help when one's foe could see in the dark. Then there was the nightmare. Erandur had had that dream several times since the initial attack. The last time he woke up from it, he had ventured back into the inner sanctum of the temple where he hadn't gone since he and Garion banished the Skull of Corruption. Recurring nightmares were one of Vaermina's favorite tricks, and he wanted to make absolutely certain that she hadn't returned. He didn't feel her presence in the sanctum, but his doubts remained.

“I can tell you're not thrilled with my plan,” Garion said. 

“I'm not,” Erandur replied. “I don't like the idea of you robbing vampires. They're unnatural Daedric beasts with terrifying powers. I've seen what they can do. Not just in Riften, but in other places. When I was in Cyrodiil a few centuries ago, one of my good friends was bitten. A vampire snuck up on him in the middle of the night. He didn't realize he was infected at first, but when he did.... He killed himself rather than change into one of those...things.”

Garion laid a comforting hand on Erandur's knee. “I'm sorry,” he said.

“I don't want that to happen to you,” Erandur said. “I don't think I could...and then there's Lucia. You're her father, Garion. She needs you. All of Skyrim needs you. As long as there are dragons in the sky, we need a Dragonborn.”

“I know my responsibilities,” said Garion. “That's why I brought a sack of the Dawnguard's special potion with me. One of the other alchemists in Riften tested it and proved its efficacy. I plan on taking it before and after I leave that cave. And then I'll take one every day for three days afterwards, just to make absolutely sure. Besides, I'm not going all the way through the cave, just the first few chambers. The vampires have already cleared out of there.”

“I still don't like this.”

“I know you don't, love.” Garion took his hands and held them tightly. “Believe me, I know how to keep myself safe and I will not be taking any unnecessary risks. I promise you, as soon as I leave that cave I will come right back here to you.”

“You'd better,” Erandur said.

“I'll have to,” said Garion. “I'm going to leave Frost with you until I get back. We took the back roads up here so I could check the approach to the cave. It's too steep and narrow for a horse to navigate. Besides, the winter storms are coming and I don't like the thought of you battling those winds every day going up and down the mountain. It would be much easier for you to ride. I've had some hay sent up from the city, so he shouldn't be too much trouble unless a mare walks by. Not that you'd have to worry about that in this weather.”

“All right. But I expect to see you on my doorstep next week.”

Garion squeezed his hands affectionately. “I'll be here. I promise”

*~*~*~*

A week passed and Garion didn't return.

Erandur waited another week, then another, then another two weeks while a series of winter storms hammered Dawnstar. Once the sky cleared he saddled Frost and headed down the mountain. Garion wasn't there, either, so he headed south. On the road to Whiterun he met up with Ahkari's caravan. Since they were all going to Riften they decided to travel together. Knowing the Khajiit had ears in every hold, Erandur asked them if they had heard anything about Garion but to no avail. They had also been snowbound and out of touch for a month. 

It wasn't until they reached Shor's Stone that they heard the first scrap of information about Garion. A fortnight previously, a couple of miners coming back from a supply run to Riften had found a dragon skeleton on the western side of Fort Greenwall. Erandur felt his worries begin to lift at this news. Maybe Garion had been called back to Riften before he could return to Dawnstar. There might have been an emergency. Maybe Lucia was ill or a dragon attacked another town. He may have even sent a note to Erandur but since no couriers had been able to enter or leave Dawnstar during the storms, he wouldn't have received it in time. It was probably waiting for him at the Windpeak Inn right now.

His good spirits lasted all the way from the village until he met Brynjolf at the Riften Stables.  
“You wouldn't have heard anything about Garion, would you, reverend?” the thief asked. “No one's seen him in over a month.”

Erandur reached for the comfort of his amulet as all his worst fears came rushing back.

*~*~*~*

Honeyside had always been a haven where the Dragonborn's family could retreat from the outside world. It was the only place other than the Benevolence where Erandur could say he truly felt at home. The warm golden light from the lamps had been enhanced by the love of its inhabitants for one another. But now that had changed. Now there was a gray cloud of worry and anxiety that settled over everyone like dust. Iona hid her unease behind a stone-faced facade that she only removed when she was absolutely alone. Lucia drooped like a wilting flower starving for sunlight. Even the pets were subdued. No one was sure what to do. Garion had never vanished before. As Lucia said, “He always comes back when he says he will. Papa never breaks a promise.”

Erandur did his best to comfort the women but other than the two-week old report of the dragon skeleton near Shor's Stone he didn't have much to offer. They kept the conversation light, catching up on other news and gossip until Lucia went to bed. Then he and Iona could discuss their worries openly.

“I'm not reassured by that report from Shor's Stone,” Iona admitted. “If Garion was that close then why didn't he come to Riften?”

“I don't know. But I'm afraid of what it means,” said Erandur.

“What do you mean?”

“Did he tell you where he was going?”

“Some cave near Dawnstar. He was being cagey, so I think it was Guild business. Thrynn told me later that it had something to do with the Dawnguard and some treasure they found.”

“Thrynn?”

“One of Garion's Guildmates. We've been seeing each other.”

“Oh. Well, let me tell you what Garion didn't: there were vampires in that cave. The same ones that burned down the Hall of the Vigilant.”

Iona sat back in her chair, stunned. “Shor's Beard. You don't think maybe...but he had the Dawnguard potion. I saw him making it.”

Just then someone knocked four times on the door. Brynjolf entered at Iona's invitation, looking far too serious to be the bearers of good news. “I just heard the latest about Garion,” Brynjolf said. 

Iona gestured to an empty chair. “Sit. Tell us.”

“There's a couple of Dawnguard recruits in the Bee and Barb” Brynjolf said. “They just came back from exploring the area around the former Hall of the Vigilant. I overheard them talking about a bag of ancient artifacts they found next to a sinkhole. They brought it back with them, so I went into their room and checked it out. Look what I found mixed in with the loot.” He put a small potion bottle on the table. A handwritten label read “Dawnguard Potion.”

Erandur felt numb. He knew that handwriting all too well.

“It's Garion's,” Iona said. She picked up the bottle with shaking hands. “They found it next to a sinkhole?”

Brynjolf nodded. “He must have fallen through.”

“But he didn't die,” she said confidently. “That dragon by Shor's Stone proves it. He's the only person in the world who can skeletonize a dragon,” she said.

“The fall didn't kill him, no,” Brynjolf agreed. “But there's more. The Dawnguard said they found the chamber the sinkhole opened into deep inside the cave. There was an old Nordic puzzle trap in there splashed with blood. Some of it was vampire blood and some of it was mortal.”

Everyone was silent for a moment. 

“But...the dragon...” Iona began.

“Lass,” Brynjolf said gently. “We don't know much about Dragonborn powers. They might carry over if....” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Erandur pushed away from the table. This was all too much. He couldn't hold himself together much longer. “I need some air,” he muttered as he stumbled to the back porch. The other two kept staring at the table as if they hadn't heard him. 

As soon as he was alone, Erandur let his tears fall. He clung to the railing where he and Garion had watched the sunset so many times together. This was worse than Sulis' death. They had been close, true, but not lovers. And Sulis had caught the disease in time. His suicide was a triumph, not a failure. He kept himself pure from the vampire's curse.

As Garion hadn't.

_It's all hearsay_ , Erandur told himself. _There's no proof that Garion was bitten. That blood might not have been his. He might have gotten past the vampires. He's sneaky enough._ But his reassurances didn't work. Deep down he knew it was true. 

The vampires had Garion. His beloved thief was lost.

“Oh, Garion. You cocksure Altmeri bastard,” Erandur sobbed. “Why didn't you listen to me? Why did you have to go in that cave?”


	4. When Luck Runs Out

Hundreds of miles away, as far away as he could get from Riften and still be in Skyrim, Garion sat on a rocky beach and contemplated the wreck he had made of his life. Everything had been going so well. After three decades on the run he had finally found a place where he felt safe enough to settle down. He had rank, prestige, honor, and power beyond his wildest dreams. He had a family again: his Guild brothers and sisters, a sweet little daughter, a housecarl who was more like a sister than a servant, and his wonderful Dunmer lover. All of that was lost now. His luck had finally run out.

Not surprising considering how he had abused it over the past thirty-odd years. Luck had kept him safe during the Great War when he was secretly sabotaging the Dominion's plans to take over Bravil. When the Thalmor discovered his mother was an Imperial spy, Garion's luck had warned him to stay away from her house. That same luck had gotten him out of Firsthold and across Cyrodiil without getting caught himself. He thought it had run out when he had been caught with Stormcloak raiding party on the Skyrim border but it had only been waiting for Alduin to appear to reveal that it was still with him. Luck had kept Garion safe through all of the dangers life had thrown at him up till now when it finally decided it had enough of him. Now he was alone. No friends, no family, no Guild, no Erandur, not even his horse to keep him company. Just a lone Altmer on an island just barely in sight of Haafingar.

No, not an Altmer. Not any more. Not since Harkon sunk his teeth into him. 

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. That accursed sinkhole had changed all his plans. He had enough luck left to land on a ledge halfway up the wall of the crypt instead of on the floor where the vampires would have found him. Or maybe that was his luck running out because if the vampires had found him they would have killed him outright. But they were too busy trying to solve a giant puzzle lock in the middle of the chamber to hear him fall. Puzzle locks were common in old Nordic ruins. The ancient Nords—or were they still Atmorans then?—used them to protect the innermost chambers of their tombs. Most of the ones Garion had encountered referenced Atmoran animal totems, but this one was different. It was solved by moving large braziers around a track in a particular pattern. From his vantage point on the ledge Garion could see the pattern that would light all the braziers and open whatever it was the puzzle opened, but the vampires on the ground didn't have that advantage. They moved the braziers randomly, getting the pattern wrong again and again until they missed one too many times. Gouts of flame shot up from the tracks, incinerating all the vampires.

Garion had thought that was his chance to escape. As it turned out the lock also controlled the doors leading out of the chamber so he had no choice but to solve it. Fifteen minutes, one impaled hand, and innumerable curses later, he had opened the lock and released a mysterious vampire woman and an Elder Scroll. If he had been thinking clearly he would have snatched the Scroll away from the woman before she got her bearings and ran out of the crypt. Elder Scrolls were worth their age in money on both the white and black markets. But he wasn't thinking clearly. Not when the woman gazed up at him with her fiery eyes. Unnatural as they were, the expression in them was all too familiar. This woman was a thousand years older than his daughter, but she was just as lost and scared as Lucia had been when he first encountered her begging on the streets. When she asked him to help her home to her family there was no question of what his answer would be.

That was the decision that sealed his fate. If he had been the stereotypical callous Altmer he would have told her to find her own way back. The landscape hadn't changed that much in a millennium. But Garion had a soft heart and following it often led to his downfall. That was probably what made his luck throw up its hands and leave. He couldn't really say he blamed it. Nor could he blame Serana. She couldn't help the fact that her father was a bastard with delusions of grandeur. The blame for what happened next lay squarely on Garion's shoulders. 

He didn't have to walk her to her front door. He could have just put her in the rowboat at the dock and waved her off. He didn't have to come inside. He could have—should have—run away as soon as he saw the ancient vampire guarding the door. But he did walk her to the door and he did come inside. And by doing so he came to the attention of Harkon Volkihar, a vampire who recognized power when he saw it and would not let it escape when it came into his house. Especially when that power was in the form of a the last Dovahkiin. And so Harkon placed a compulsion upon his prize Dovahkiin and Garion exchanged his emerald-green eyes for eyes of fire, his mortal lifespan for unholy immortality, his freedom for eternal servitude to a madman. 

The other vampires in the castle were kind enough to him, mainly because he was Harkon's new pet, but Garion kept himself apart from them. He spoke when spoken to, did what he was told to do, and spent his free time sitting on the beach staring across the gray waters towards the life he had left behind. The rest of them let him be. They knew it took a few months or years before the feelings that tied the new vampire to his past life died away.

Garion wasn't sure if he wanted that to happen or not. On the one hand, he could never see his family again. But on the other hand, forgetting Lucia and Erandur and Iona and all his Guildmates felt like giving up hope. 

But was there really any hope to give up? He wasn't an ordinary vampire, he was a Volkihar vampire tainted by the blood of Molag Bal Himself. There was no treatment, no cure, no hope. Even Nocturnal wouldn't accept him now. His contract with Her was broken. As for Mara, there was no way he would ever feel Her blessing again. He still had his Dragonborn powers, as he discovered at Redwater Den, but using them felt like an insult. He wasn't good enough to be Dovahkiin anymore. He wasn't good enough to be anything but Harkon's lackey.

And so he sat on the cold, rocky beach watching the waves wash back and forth while his eyes burned with tears that never fell. He may have kept his power to absorb dragon's souls, but he couldn't cry. No vampire could.


End file.
